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August 7, 2005

SOFA SO BAD

They didn't have Sambuca so we ordered shots of Goldshlager instead. Even contemplating Sambuca meant that Dan, Gav and I were a long way from sobriety thanks, in no uncertain terms, to a pre-pub outing to the local curry house where the Cobra beer was far far too tempting to resist.

Towards the end of the night, we were strolling around the pub, throwing the occasional pound into the fruit machine (because we enjoy pressing a button for 30p a go) and to my surprise, there, right by my foot was a crisp £20 note. Utter bargain. So we used that for some chips and curry sauce and a taxi home where we intended to make a dent in the stocks of out-of-date Boddingtons that were cooling nicely in the fridge.

But we never got back to the flat. As we walked towards home, the neighbours that we'd never met (this is London, people don't talk to each other) invited us in for a beer. Memory of this hour is particularly hazy, but what I can recall is Alex turning up, a can of Carlsberg and hardcore porn on their widescreen tv.

Stumbling the few yards back to our own flat, I noticed the interior light on in one of the cars parked out back. "Look, that stupid c*nt's left his interior light on" I said to Alex, "he'll have a flat battery in the morning, the daft c*nt". At which point Alex opened his car and turned off the interior light.

The next thing I know, it's 6.30am and I'm sitting on the sofa in the lounge AGAIN, with a half empty box of chocolate cookies next to me. Realising that I have to be on the football field in three hours time, I fall into bed and vow to never drink Goldshlager again.

Posted by jonola14 at August 7, 2005 3:02 PM